"That's for you to find out," returned his aunt, giving him a kiss.

Mother Blossom sat down on the bed and began talking in a low tone to
Aunt Polly and the four children raced downstairs and out to the
garage to open their presents. They liked the garage because there was
plenty of space to play in, where, indeed, they had four empty rooms
above the first floor for their own uses.

This morning they rushed upstairs so fast that they never thought of
Philip till, as they reached the top step, Meg looked back and saw
the little dog painfully hobbling after them on his three good legs.

"He wants to come, too," she said. "Here, Philip, come on up, good
doggie."

Philip managed to finish his climb and then lay down on the floor,
panting, but satisfied to be where his friends were.

"I'll give each one a package," Bobby decided. "Then we'll open them,
one at a time, like Christmas. You first, Meg."

Meg ripped the string off her parcel with a single motion and pulled
off the paper in such a hurry that she tore it in two. Meg always
hurried to solve mysteries.

"Why, it's a game!" she cried, when she had opened the box. "All in
pieces. Look!"

Bobby took a look and shrieked with delight.

"It's an airplane," he announced instantly. "That's mine, 'cause Aunt
Polly knows I like experiments. What you got, Dot?"

Dot hastily unwrapped her package and discovered a doll's trunk.

"With clothes in it for Geraldine," she reported, after turning the
tiny key and taking a peep inside. "That's mine all right. What's
Twaddles got?"

Twaddles unwrapped his parcel slowly and importantly. He was sure it
was for him, and he rather enjoyed making the others wait.

"Nothing but a book," he said disgustedly. "What kind of a book is it,
Bobby?"

"That's for Meg," Bobby informed him. "'Black Beauty.' Aunt Polly
knows Meg likes to read and is always fussing with animals. I must
have your present, Twaddles."

The four Blossoms were more interested in Twaddles' gift than in their
own because it was the only one they had not seen. Bobby carefully
untied the string and wound it up in a neat ring; then he slowly took
off the paper and folded that; finally he opened the flat box.

Twaddles promptly tried to stand on his head, a habit he had when he
was pleased. He never did succeed in standing on his head, but he
usually turned a very good somersault. He did now.

"Give it to me," he shouted, bobbing right side up again. "See,